


Animal

by lisagemeni



Category: Victor Frankenstein (2015)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Arguing, Awkward Tension, Gay, Kissing, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Male Slash, Obsession, Pain, Sexual Tension, Strauspin, Unrequited Love, religion versus science, turgor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5148782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisagemeni/pseuds/lisagemeni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Turpin calls Igor into his office at Scotland Yard to question him about suspicious behavior in Igor's neighborhood. But as the visit continues, Igor realizes that Turpin has called him in for something else entirely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Animal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BarryBucks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarryBucks/gifts).



> This fanfic was a drabble requested by my good friend and talented artist BarryBucks. This work was inspired by this beautiful [sketch](https://twitter.com/barry_bucks/status/661404624256151553).
> 
> I've read a draft of the wonderful "Victor Frankenstein" screenplay by Max Landis and cannot get this beautiful ship out of my head. I can't wait to watch Daniel Radcliffe and Andrew Scott give this pair justice.
> 
> This fanfic takes place somewhere towards the beginning of the film.

"Ah, Mr. Strausman, you've come. Pray, take a seat." 

Turpin let a small, false smile play on his lips as the smaller man walked into the room.

Turpin's office at Scotland Yard wasn't particularly small, but it did leave desire for space. On this particular day, however, he was grateful for the lack of space. He wanted to notice every expression on Igor's face; every indication of falseness, any crack in composure, every single small thing that would give away his guilt. 

He stroked the crucifix in his hand after every single movement that Igor made. When he walked in. Stroke. When he uncomfortably paced the room. Stroke. When he finally placed his small fingers on the back of the chair. Stroke. When he took his seat and the pressure of his body made the chair almost give way. Stroke. 

Igor eyed the Scotland Yard detective nervously. He didn't like being in Turpin's presence. Since they met, he always sensed some predatory feeling from the older man; a primitive, dark desire to cause Igor harm. It kept Igor awake at times, wondering how terrified he would feel to be pressed against a wall by Turpin, against his will, knowing that there was no way out. An eternal prison, locked in his arms, held by his dangerous gaze...

But that was only a nightmare. This moment, now, between them, was real.

"How... how can I help you?" Igor's voice was barely above a scared whimper. Turpin's eyes glistened.

"There has been a set of burglaries around your neighborhood, Mr. Strausman. It is my duty to call in every single citizen in a five mile radius and question them." Bullocks. There was no such thing. But Turpin needed to speak to Igor somehow, and like hell was he going to admit the real reason he wanted Igor to be there.

In truth, Turpin needed Igor's presence. He needed Igor's smell to pervade every corner of his office. He needed to memorize every one of Igor’s glances, the way he spoke, the way he looked, the way he…

“Do you have any information? Anything at all that can help Scotland Yard put an end to these criminal activities?”

Igor attempted to sit still, almost the picture of pure confidence, although his shaking legs betrayed him. 

Turpin’s eyes didn’t miss a single shiver. 

“N-no, sir… nothing at all.” 

Ah, the boy wouldn’t be motivated by mere words. Perhaps it was time to try a different approach. 

Turpin rounded the desk between them, the crucifix hanging limply from his right hand. Igor’s eyes followed the crucifix as it swayed to the right, to the left, to the right again… 

Turpin sat at the edge of the desk, mere feet away from Igor. Igor immediately straightened his posture. This, for some reason, seemed to amuse the Detective Inspector.

“Stand.” Turpin said. It wasn’t a statement, but a command. 

Igor’s heart pounded in his ears, in his throat, in his eyes. “Yes, sir…” His body obeyed Turpin’s wishes, why, Igor had no idea. Perhaps it was that primitive feeling again, that feeling that animalistic nature was the only way to describe their relationship. Turpin ordered, Igor obeyed. It was as simple as that. 

“Good.” Turpin simply replied, but it might as well have been to thin air. Igor was numb to everything but hyper aware at the same time. It felt as if he wasn’t even there, as if Turpin had control of every single hair on his body. It was adrenaline, Igor was sure, that was pumping through his veins now. It was the same response from the animals that he used to look after at the circus whenever Lord Barnaby would come around. He had read about it in his recent copy of Thompson’s Anatomy. Adrenaline. How Igor wished he could use it to his advantage, but it immobilized him now. 

“I… I… what… do you want from me?” Igor knew there was no time for subtlety, no time for indirectness.

Turpin smirked as he walked towards Igor, slowly, every step seemed like an eternity. He was a snake, eyeing his paralyzed victim, already having won the game and taking pleasure in it. “I already told you. It is quite simple."

Igor could feel his body moving backwards. Proof that he was still somewhat aware of what was happening. “Y-yes…?”

“You must tell me if there is anything suspicious going on in your place of residence.” 

Igor’s eyes widened in shock. This was a different question than the one before… what kind of game was he heading into?

“I… don’t understand.” Igor cried out in pain as the small of his back hit the wall behind him. 

Turpin grinned maniacally at Igor’s discomfort. “Oh, I assure you that you do. I’ve been keeping my eye on you, on Victor… there is something not quite right about him, don't you agree?” 

Igor felt a wave of blood rush to his face, but from anger or arousal he did not know. “Victor is… he is not a criminal, Mr. Turpin.” 

“Ah, so it is just you, then.” Turpin held out both of his arms against the wall, perfectly framing Igor’s face, dropping the crucifix onto the floor, forgetting about it. This seemed to pin the younger man in place. How ironic was it all, that Igor's greatest nightmare was turning into reality and yet… 

Turpin didn’t much seem like the devil Igor had imagined. No… more like a fallen angel, that could help him fly into the bliss of heaven or fall into the depths of hell. 

“I’m… not a criminal, either, I… I…”

“Yes?” Turpin brought his face closer, his breath causing the hair on the back of Igor’s neck to stand on end. Igor tried to ignore the muscles that were being outlined in Turpin’s strong arms. It made sweet warmth spread all over his entire body. 

“I…”

“Yes?” 

“Is nature a crime?” Igor sighed into Turpin’s face. Turpin loved the way Igor’s bottom lip bounced as he spoke. 

“Physical nature, no. But human nature…” Yes. This was what was between them. Human nature. An unpredictable, sexual longing that shouldn’t exist but the only way to explain it, the only way to justify why on earth Turpin would have such a sinful desire for this younger, frailer, beautiful young man was to blame it on the one thing he despised the most…

“Science. Science is evil and wrong and impure. Just like you.” The words fell out of Turpin’s mouth before he could think about what he was saying. 

Igor looked up at him, eyes half closed, like he was in pain, but what he felt went much deeper than that. “But, sir… why would you say that to me? I’m… I’m not evil, I-”

“But you are. You are. The way you are looking at me… a man should not look at another man like this. It is a sin. It is against the law. It is against nature.” 

Igor’s blood ran cold. What was this man suggesting…? That he felt something, something akin to lust, to sexual attraction… to love? 

It made no sense. The two of them, science versus religion, logic versus nature, rebellion versus the law. They stood for all of that and none of it. The entire world evaporated until the only thing that ever existed was the two of them. They were the original homo sapiens, they were Adam and Eve, the creators of everything and nothing, and -

Turpin fixated his eyes on Igor’s wet, red lips. The type of lips that only youth could give. Igor noticed Turpin’s attention and this made him lick his lips because of it. A sound escaped Turpin’s mouth just then - a wail, like a wounded animal - and just as Turpin bent his face lower, the mere centimeters between them vanished, just as the universe was exploding and the room grew too loud and too quiet and Igor could hear his heart pumping out the blood that kept him alive, just as Turpin’s groin grew hotter and bigger and Igor sighed in defeat but it felt like a victory, and Igor couldn’t breathe, and Turpin breathed in too much, and just as Igor titled his head to the left and Turpin’s to the right -

There was a knock on the door. And then the door opened.

“Detective Inspector, there is a new lead in the murder case that you…” Alistair stopped dead in his tracks.

There, at the edge of Turpin’s office, was Turpin pressing Igor against the wall with his hands on either side of Igor’s face. 

They both stared at him with blank faces. 

“Perhaps I’ve… interrupted something. My apologies.” Alistair laughed nervously and disappeared from sight as quickly as he had entered. 

The universe didn’t explode, at least for the moment. Turpin let his hands fall to his side. He couldn’t help but see a galaxy collapse in Igor’s eyes. 

“That is all for today, Mr. Strausman.” Turpin snapped back into his usual role; the most talented detective in the city. Which meant he had a talent for turning off emotion when necessary. But there was still a fire in his eyes. He bent over to pick up the fallen crucifix from the floor, locked eyes with Igor and kissed the crucifix softly, as if in apology. 

Igor’s eyes followed Turpin as he resumed his position behind his desk, sitting in the same position he was in when Igor walked in. Turpin began to write a note on a piece of paper, as if Igor wasn’t there. As if he was alone.

Igor watched the man, breathlessly. He could not move. He was waiting for something. Something he would never have. 

After a moment, Turpin looked up. “Are you still here? You may go.” 

Igor understood that that was the moment Turpin released him from his cage. 

“Do promise me to stay out of trouble, Mr. Strausman.” Turpin added, his eyes still on the piece of paper.

Igor turned back and gave Turpin one last, long look. “I promise.”

But it was an empty promise. It was a promise that an animal cried out in the darkness of the night to stay in their nest for the rest of eternity, only to leave it once the morning came.


End file.
